Idgets and Their Angel Brother
by Mythical Element
Summary: The younger Winchester vanished from his sight and the image of his fallen older brother replaced his form, waving at him with a deceitful smile. He looked away from the memory and saw an older man standing across the room. Sadly he knew the man was dead.


Disclaimer – Any copy rights in relation to Supernatural respectively belong to Eric Kripke, the WB/CW, and any other affiliates.

Author's Note – This story is written with plot elements from the tail end of season six and most of season seven until episode eighteen, so there will be "spoilers". (I've seen up to episode nineteen.) I've just been inspired lately to write out two of my favorite characters since season three and four. Sorry Winchesters, but you've been bumped down the list for a while.

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All aboard!

The younger Winchester suddenly vanishes from his sight and the image of his fallen older brother replaces Sam's form. Lucifer waves at him with a deceitful smile from his supine position on the bed and he shifts his attention from Lucifer's unwelcoming presence in the room to an older man who stands by the table in front of him. The man frowns at the brothers' bickering, after Sam abruptly gets out of bed towards his brother, despite of Dean's protests of staying put before he tumbles over, and Sam bats Dean's hands away from him. Sam tells him that he's _fine _and he's not about to _keel _over. Though the man's soft brown eyes show nothing but fondness and relief for the two.

The brothers seem to have not taken notice of the man at all and he feels that the man does not belong here. The man confirms his suspicions when he walks next to Sam and tries to place his hand on his shoulder. His hand just phases through him like a projected image of light. The man is momentarily confused but he shakes his head and pulls his hand out of Sam's shoulder blade. He turns back to stand where he originally was, away from the Winchesters.

He believes then that the man must be– no. He could not finish the thought. A growing something begins to ache horribly right in his chest. It is a feeling of…lost that he understands especially well at this point. He remembers the man being alive before his revival…Now he just could not be– but he can see the man's _soul_, free of its confines of a human body, and its pure white energy fluctuating to keep the image of its body around itself. It is beyond what the limited sight of human eyes can see but not for an angelic being. Its flaring presence lingers with the Winchesters: a hidden vigil.

The brothers continue to converse with each other by the door. Sam is able bodied again and makes animated gestures with his speech, finally relieved of the memories of the cage bearing down on his mind and body. Dean is just the same, throwing his hands up in the air at a ridiculous notion Sam makes with a scoff of breath that hides a smile. Sam speaks of him, of whether or not leaving him here is such a good idea. That it's not safe for him here. Dean's smile then fades away into a grim line.

_Really, there is no place safe anymore. _He keeps that opinion to himself as he listens on to what Dean has to say. He talks about a plan. Saying to the front that their brother here, he gives a stray look to him on the floor, thinks he's seeing angels and demons and that they're gunning for him. They'll believe he's crazy and take him in while their other patient, he looks Sam in the eye and pats his shoulder, gets discharged on the fact that he's all good now. Some sort of agreement is then met between the brothers because Dean tells him that they'll be right back shortly and he places his hand on the back of his brother's neck, gripping it in a tell of affection. He watches him guide Sam out the door and Sam turns his head to look back at him as they leave.

_Do not…you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for Sam. _He could not hold that compassionate gaze from the youngest Winchester and his eyes stare off somewhere at the wall in front of him. From the bed, he ignores Lucifer's whistling of a dramatic tune at the ceiling and his swinging hand movements to go with it. He turns his eyes at the door as it shuts behind them and he hears Dean's fading voice say eagerly that he's springing him out of this loony bin and he's got a favor to ask of– Sam's hushed shout of "You're joking Dean. Asking _Meg_ to do something for you and I was supposedly the one that lost his mind…" intercedes in that part of Dean's plan. He does not get to hear the rest of the conversation as they travel further away.

The man watches them through the narrow window until they are gone from his sight too. His eyes squint with a bitter sadness and he scuffs at the floor with a heavy boot. "Balls." The man whispers harshly to himself and he breathes out in frustration. Then he faces in his direction and the man says aloud,

"I kinda figured you were still alive somewhere, even before I bit the dust, since I picked up something of a healer that was performing miracles for folks strangely a few days after well you…you know. Then I got some calls from a coupla hunters tellin' me that they went lookin' for this strange miracle worker, wonderin' if he's the real deal or not, and one of'em called me back, saying that a life-threatening disease of hers was completely gone. That 'Emmanuel' the healer cured her right up with just a touch of his hand to her forehead and she couldn't've been anymore happier. Before she hung up though, she said to me, "That it only could've been a godsend and I'm praying thanks to the Lord again." That's what definitely had me thinkin' and I woulda went out for myself to see you, to leave no doubt about it, before I told the boys about ya but..." He waves his hands outwards from his chest. "Here I am." He lets them fall back to his sides and he shrugs his shoulders in acceptance of the fact that he's dead. There ain't nothing he can do about it now.

"However, Dean did eventually caught on to ya when it got too rough for Sam. The kid was deteriorating in front of our eyes and Dean got desperate again. He got to calling up all of my old contacts throughout yesterday, seeking for anyone who could perform a miracle for the kid and he scratched out the last name he could find with nothing to go by. I wanted to smack him upside the head for not lookin' hard enough so I knocked a book over instead, with the telephone number of someone who's been healed from ya recently inside it. And Dean figured out the rest then…then after I saw ya walking up the sidewalk though, all I could think of was, 'God done did it again.' " The man closes his eyes for a moment and presses the back of his hand against one cheek then takes it away to put in his pocket. He's not crying, nope.

The man speaks his peace, not knowing that he is heard and seen by 'Emmanuel' sitting against the wall. Lucifer turns his head towards them and props his elbow up to lean his head against his fist, now curious about what's going on between his brother and the man who he swears he's killed before. He rolls his eyes after recalling a memory of his bother bringing the man back. _So typical of him. I should've burnt the human to dust and scattered him across the country._

'Emmanuel' moves his eyes upwards at the man to see his face, keeping his head bowed in remorse for this remaining soul that stays on this plane. The man resists peace and eternal rest in order to continue to help the Winchesters, his boys, fight for the Earth again. He tilts his head slightly, an unconscious action, and his ethereal blue eyes focus deeper into the man's brown ones. His sight passes by the illusion of his body and into the brightness of the man's soul. Using an angelic power that is nature to him, he delves into the last memories of the soul. He wishes he had not after he sees the first fragment of memory but he moves quickly along the time stream of his friend's life.

…His house is blazing and he is running away towards a truck in the junkyard spouting curses. The bottle of whiskey he is holding is empty and tipping out of his hand as he is falling asleep at his desk. A thudding sound is waking him up suddenly and he is blinking at the rolling bottle that comes to a stop at a bookshelf. He is researching through all his texts for anything on the Leviathan, sipping a drink from a mug as he reads on. He is calling the brothers "idgets" over the phone and tells them to "bring the frozen beast over immediately 'cause time's a wastin' " and he is hanging up. He is shaking his head and is heading downstairs to prepare an area in the basement just for it. He is watching a decapitated body of the Leviathan burn in his backyard and he is raising his bottle to its good riddance. He is talking to another of the leviathan in an office and they both hear the sounds of screaming outside the door. Roman, the leviathan in disguise as the human, is telling him not to go anywhere as it is leaving with a winning smile and he is muttering to himself about what the Leviathan's been up to as the door closes. He is realizing that its much worst than he thought as he is reading back and forth on the various papers scattered on its desk. He is grapping one of two pistols that is laid out on the desk and is loading it with a 'click', 'click', 'click'. He is rushing his way out of the office and through the building to the boys outside to make their escape. Roman is striding outside the building with the pistol's twin in hand, at the same time he is jumping through the back of the open van that the brothers are driving, and he is taking a shot, then another in their direction. The first shot is going through his skull, the other a miss, and he is dying now. He is lying in a hospital bed and is writing one last message to the Winchesters on a piece of paper: a line of numbers. The reaper is waiting for an answer in the last 'living' memory left in his mind. He is telling the reaper, "Hell no, I ain't going.", and the reaper is nodding in acquiescence, "So be it." The reaper is leaving his mind and the man is giving a tired sigh, looking at the door that appears in the room after it leaves. The last exit for him…

He ends the flow of time there and draws back from the pulsing white energy. He clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes, grounding himself against the simmering wrath he has for those foul creatures. He is the one who harbored those things inside himself, ignorant of its presence until it was too late. The world is sentenced to its death, because of him.

_For all that has happened, I am…sorry. _He raises his head up this time and stares at the man's face again, bleary blue eyes with despair and loneliness at the lost of one of the only friends he has, _I don't have the right to call them that anymore, _left.

"Why did you not go with the reaper Bobby?" It is the only question, out of the many in his mind, he asks at the moment. Although, he already knows the reason why his soul carries on here. _A wandering soul bound by devotion and loyalty._

Bobby's eyes widens at the realization that the angel could actually see him and his mouth opens in awe, taking a hesitant step forward.

"You can see me Castiel?" His incorporeal body statically flashes in and out of human sight but Castiel sees the soul still standing solidly there. He gives the barest of nods for an answer, shifting his eyes away from him and catching the sight of Lucifer. He is sat upright while tapping an iron rod against his knee. His head is canted to one side while he says,

"Of course he can old man, he's an angel, duh." But Lucifer wonders why the bros. haven't noticed yet that their dear old friend is still hanging around in this failing world. Really it's quite sad that the old man couldn't leave his life behind and make his merry way to Heaven. For some reason or another, he decides to stay and look what happens. He ends up turning himself into a potential _hunt_ for the poor bros. Then it all comes down to: will they be able to send the old man to his death, again, when the time comes? Lucifer laughs quietly to himself as he stands up, crossing his arms loosely over chest while letting the rod swing freely in hand. He watches as the rest of this touching encounter plays out.

Bobby yells out a "Hey!" and it causes Castiel to snap his head back to him. He braces himself for a scolding that is sure to come from the man, blue eyes tracing the squares of the linoleum floor. Bobby isn't angry at all though. Really he's glad at the moment that finally someone has taken a notice that he's still here, not exactly "alive" but sure as hell's still kickin'. He tells Castiel,

"You need to suck it up and stop feelin' guilty already. Yeah you let loose some of the oldest evil there is out there and the world's in peril once again but you're no good to anyone mopin' around on your ass on the floor."

Castiel's mouth opens for a reply but closes it after dismissing his thoughts, at a lost as to what to say exactly to Bobby's bold words. He can not help them anymore. Not with Lucifer causing him distractions in his mind that could potentially lead to a fatality that he could not bear to witness. He has freed Sam of his worst memories, essentially giving him his life back, and he can only pray for them at this point. _I put what faith I have left in Dean and Sam to stop the beasts before it is too late._

Bobby breathes out a frustrated noise, swiping his hat off his head and sweeping through his thinning hair with it before setting it back on his head, and the fluorescent lights over head flicker rapidly in succession from the door way towards the window. It bows and groans from a sudden impact of force and from outside there are low, grey clouds rolling on through the sky but it's only thunder from a distance and harsh winds out there.

"Alright, I do blame ya for your stupidity and actin' just like those two knuckleheads gettin' into trouble." He jerks his thumb behind him at the door. "Each one of ya always puttin' yourself out there for the greater good without thinkin' things through and nothing ever does from it! It's yer fault we're in this apocalyptic mess again and I could beat ya down with it 'til ya couldn't stand up anymore," he stomps a foot a couple times, "but it won't do no good to stop the Leviathan from eatin' the world whole! So it's about time you stand up and make your own damn wall in your mind, shovin' your deranged brother as far away as ya can, and help those two idgets or I'll be hauntin' yer ass next." Bobby says with heated breaths. He holds his hand out for the angel to pull up on.

Castiel does not voice the first response that comes to mind and he chuckles softly. _It is impossible for you to "haunt my ass" when you are bound to your flask that Dean evidentially partakes from now. _Instead, he is surprised once again by this show of humanity's perseverance, will, hope, and most of all forgiveness for one another, despite of all that he has let come to pass. That thought alone though causes the chuckle to cease in his throat. He focuses in on Bobby's hand and his vision waters again. The magnitude of his disastrous choice is just far too great for a simple "all's forgiven now". He does not deserve such kindness when he has done this to himself. His Father's punishment is just this time around: denying him his death and letting him watch the world burn by the Leviathan. Older beasts than all of his Father's creations that can only be cast back deep into Purgatory or be slain. There are only two beings he knows of, besides his Father, that has a chance at obliterating it from existence and he is not one of them. He places his palms flat on the floor and presses hard against it in repressed grief. Looking out the window, he sees lighting cracking through the air and hears the thunder following after in a loud and low rumble that echoes on. His eyes reflect a deep, dark grey of the passing storm. He closes his eyes and tears start to escape down his cheeks. He does not reach for Bobby's hand.

Bobby isn't having any of it though and he commands, "Castiel! Stop the waterworks and look at me!" Castiel immediately locks onto Bobby's face, coming to his undivided attention. He does not move to wipe away the tears, letting it flow freely and soaking into his trench coat. Staring up at the blurry man, he waits and listens, just as a soldier awaits the rest of an order. Bobby continues his tirade.

"I'm not lettin' ya rot here, ya hear me? I've almost lost Dean and Sam many times before and I'm not about to lost you to the guilt and hopelessness that they've been carryin' too. Lord knows we're all carryin' it at some point in life so just let it go Castiel. They're goin' to need ya for this upcomin' battle so grab my hand already 'fore I –" Castiel's hand is already gripping his before Bobby finishes and realizes he can't possibly touch Castiel because he's a dang spirit now. But the weight he feels in his hand tells him otherwise and his whole arm shakes a bit in revelation of this fact. "…lay my hands on ya."…


End file.
